Resurrecting Hope
by Grignard
Summary: [Langoliers] Because Stephen King can't make such an awesome character like Nick Hopewell and just kill him off. The junior attaché gets a second chance at life.


_There's needs to be a Stephen King listing in the books section. I know if I post this in the Dark Tower series, I'll get more reviews but c'est la vie._

* * *

Resurrecting Hope

Nick Hopewell took steady, deep breaths against the yellow plastic delivering oxygen to himself. The bag and mask was secured firmly around his face. The old, dry tone of every stewardess filled his memory, "Even though the bag will not inflate, oxygen will still be flowing."

His mind was clear. He could feel the throbbing in his useless, broken right arm, the press of Laurel's lips. He could remember the sound of beautiful music from Albert's violin, the only real sound in that dead world. The sight of Dinah's determined eyes… Though she was blind he felt as if she had been peering right into his very soul to all of his faults and sins.

Well this was his act of atonement now. Murdering all of those people in the name of his occupation, but most damning of all the killing of the boys behind the church in Belfast, it was all catching up to him. Fate was calling on him to balance the books, to sacrifice his life for six strangers.

No, not strangers, dear friends, he corrected himself. He was glad that he got to know who he was giving up his life for, well, except for the man in the black beard – no one knew much about him. He thought of Albert, the young prodigy forming a budding relationship with the damaged but recovering Bethany. Robert Jenkins, the novelist whose deductions saved them all from non-existence. Brian, the pilot, who managed to have nerves of steel even after hearing the news of his wife's death. How he managed to land and take a plane with those _things_ coming after them, Nick could never understand. Rudy with his strange fixation on his appetite managed to figure out they were in the past. He regretted Dinah and Don's deaths. The two lost their lives due to that maniac, may he rot in hell.

Dear Laurel, his little spitfire. He would surely forfeit his life for hers even if hers was the only one at risk. By god, they could have had something special. He wiped a hand across his cheek unsure if it was sweat or tears. The rift was approaching quickly. He could see the wrongness of it looming.

Nick kept his hand loosely on the cabin pressure rheostat. It wouldn't be good to have a trigger happy hand and awaken everyone prematurely. He was so alone.

"Nick…"

Wasn't he?

"Nick…"

There it was again.

Was one of the others awake? Did the cabin pressure fluctuate without him knowing?

He checked the dials. No, the reading's still showed below normal values, and the sound wasn't coming from Brian beside him or from the first class cabin.

"Nick…"

The voice was young, female and oh so familiar.

He turned to the side. She had just been in the corner of his eye.

"Dinah?" he breathed. Didn't Laurel say that Dinah was gone? The girl gave him her brightest smile. Nick had to admit that seeing her whole and happy was a much better sight than before. His last vivid image of the sweet girl alive had her bleeding from the mouth clutching his pant leg with a determined desperation. "Don't you kill him… we need him," she murmured with a knife handle protruding from her chest. By just trusting her with that simple statement, she had saved them all.

It was then that Nick noticed that the Dinah before him had an ethereal glow behind her, and hang on a tick, was she floating above the ground?

The beautiful girl looked at him with lovely brown eyes – lovely, _alert_ brown eyes. She could _see_, he thought with stark realization. Did one's ailments vanish after death?

"Are you here to escort me to the other side, darling?" he commented with a lightheartedness he didn't really feel. If she was here to take him, he was mightily surprised. The attaché thought he would vanish into thin air similar to how Albert found everyone's possessions and that one fellow's toupee. "Well, I'm ready when you are."

She gave him that same beautiful smile again. Time was slowing before her presence. The rip which had been quickly approaching now remained still just off in the distance by the plane's nose. He could see a brief swirl of indistinct color, a flash of a falling star.

Dinah continued to smile warmly at him, "I'm not here to take you, Mr. Hopewell."

"Oh. At least you'll be here to hold my hand when I disappear into the ether." Honestly he wasn't afraid of dying. His many secretive exploits for Queen and country had guaranteed a courtship with death. It was dying alone that was his worst fear. Nick gave a small yawn. The adrenaline must be wearing off. All of a sudden he felt quite tired.

The formally sightless girl shook her head. "You're not going anywhere, Mr. Hopewell. In fact, as long as I can help it, you're staying right here."

"What?" A sudden wave of drowsiness seized the man. _No!_ He wasn't supposed to fall asleep. Everyone was relying on him!

"You tried to save my life. It's time to repay the favor."

She was talking nonsense, he thought. Nick struggled to rise out of his chair. Maybe if he walked around he could shake this bout of lethargy.

Dinah pressed her small hands against his shoulders with surprisingly strong force, holding him in his seat. "Shh. It's alright. Trust me. No fear, Nick. All's safe as houses. Off to sleep you go."

The girl had never called him by his first name before, and the words she used were the exact ones he had said to Captain Engle before the man had slipped from consciousness. No one else had been in the room with them.

But could he rely on her though? He had trusted her with Toomy, and she had gotten herself killed, but then again, he suspected it was her that sent the madman into the monsters, buying them precious time to take-off. Nick thought of Laurel and her beseeching blue-green eyes, the promise she had given him with her kiss. The world continued to be a thumping – and he was still in it.

He desperately wanted to stay that way.

The man gave Dinah Bellman a slow nod. He would put his life into her small hands. God forgive him for being a selfish idiot, but he wanted to live. He closed his eyes, letting the sandman take him into the darkness.

Dinah let out a quiet sigh. Everyone had looked towards Mr. Hopewell for guidance when the group was trying to save her dying body. It was no wonder he had snapped at them when he did. She didn't know about his past, but she suspected that he was more accustomed to taking lives than saving them.

He deserved a second chance.

Time moved and fluffy clouds turned into a kaleidoscope of colors as the plane entered the rip – each hue flashing briefly, representing an aspect of the thriving world, but more beautiful, more real. The greenness of the vast Amazon jungle, followed by the orange of a volcano exploding on a tropical island, the bright warmth of a summer sun and lastly the ice blue of a clear ocean. These were all a mere glimpse of what lied on the other side, a place further up and further in.

The blaze of colors danced across the slumbering men's faces, making them into a strange canvas of multi-colored shooting stars. The tints faded until all there was was clean blue skies. They had passed through the rip.

Dinah waited a few precious seconds to ensure the survival of her beloved companions. They had all tried to save her, and each other, from a fate worse than death, and Nick had been willing to sacrifice his life. The survivors would be fine - all seven of them. She made her last breath of this realm, cranked the rheostat to its maximum setting, and disappeared without a sound.

Dinah Bellman had ceased to exist.

The man in the horn-rimmed glasses awoke with a pounding headache. What had happened? Did one of his assignments knock him out? Where was he? No, he had an oxygen mask on. Was he in hospital?

His training kicked in. Re-evaluate your surroundings. Make sure you haven't been compromised. The pure gas flowing into his lungs cleared the fog from his mind with every controlled breath.

He was in the cockpit of a plane, its engines quietly humming. There was the smell of diesel fuel. He remembered restocking the fuel supply to escape from those things…balls with _teeth_!

With that horrific image, it was as if cold water had been splashed all over Nick.

The cabin pressure!

He glanced wildly at the knob. It was already turned back to the normal setting, and according to the telemetry dials they had passed safely through the temporal rift, _all of them_. He glanced over at the slumbering pilot. They were out of the woods. It was a miracle, he had made it!

A loud beep interrupted his joy. Low fuel. Of course they still had to land the blasted heap! The agent yanked off the plastic breathing mask and jammed it onto Brian's face.

The man's eyes fluttered open as the oxygen did its work. Brian jerked back in shock as he perceived Nick Hopewell still alive and well, standing before him.

"Steady there. Take regular breaths. I told you I was like a bad penny." The agent gave an impish grin.

The pilot let out a slightly hysterical laugh, but proceeded to prep the plane for landing. Nick must have had a guardian angel looking out for him. The group was sure to never see the young man again.

There was a burst of noise, and Nick found himself with an armful of the delightful Laurel.

"You're alive! You're here!" she shouted joyously. Gone was the faded woman slipping past the best years of her life. Now she was as youthful and beautiful as any young woman.

The schoolteacher touched his face with slim hands; still in disbelief he was real and breathing before her.

"Get back into your seat, Laurel, before you break your neck!" Brian shouted. The rapidly emptying fuel gauge indicated that the plane was about to sink like a rock if he didn't do something quickly.

"I got her," Nick quipped with a grin, also exuberant that he could see and touch her. He set her in his lap and disengaged and adjusted the seatbelt length to fit snugly around the both of them. She wrapped her arms carefully to avoid his injured one. It was just in time. A startled shriek escaped from her as the engine failed.

Nick slid an undamaged arm around her head and neck to prevent harm to his beloved Laurel. Her hair was soft and dark beneath his fingers. He certainly didn't survive a trans-dimensional time warp only to end up losing her now!

Captain Engel with his grit and perseverance made a miraculous second landing. Wiping a sweat soaked brow, the man could only remark, "Flying lessons, eh Nick?"

Laurel couldn't understand the attaché's manic laughter to that statement. Maybe something _had_ happened while Nick was the only one awake.

"There's nothing there," she said with a frown, craning her head to look out through the windshield of the plane. Everything was dark.

Would Nick have sacrificed his life for no reason at all? She shook her head as she released the safety belt. It didn't matter. He was alive and here with her now. Even if they had to go through another encounter with the Langoliers, she was thankful for a little more time with him.

The trio traveled to the main cabin, to be greeted by the jubilant calls of the others. Nick accepted the strong hugs from Albert and Bethany with a wince. They were not as careful with their enthusiasm as Laurel was.

No matter, pain was a sign he was still breathing and alive, along with everyone else.

"What happened?" Bob Jenkins, the novelist and ever the voice of logic, queried. "There was no way you could have survived that." Nick explained he had fallen asleep before the rift, but had awoken just after passing through.

Rudy Warwick was quick to jump in with a hypothesis. His experiment with the beer and sandwich on the other side proved he was quite capable of thinking outside of the box. "Maybe the tubing kinked up, stopping the flow of oxygen which made you pass out. After we traveled through the void, your body shifted. Your hand, which was holding the cabin pressure gauge slipped, restoring the cabin pressure. You ended up waking up with the rest of us."

Nick couldn't remember anything at all until his eyes drifted over to the little girl unmoving atop two chairs in first class.

Laurel noticed where his gaze had landed. "I thought I tucked Dinah's arms in before we landed."

One hand had freed itself, laying outstretched in supplication, as if trying to grasp something.

"Maybe she moved when we landed," Bethany ventured. It was a rather violent landing. A few of them had bumps and bruises despite being belted in.

Laurel gently placed the limb back into Dinah's lap.

"We should really check out where we are," Albert said nervously.

"You're right, this mystery can wait," the novelist said. "Let's see what's out there, and perhaps make a splint for Nick's arm."

"But what about Dinah?" Laurel fretted.

Nick placed a kiss against her temple. "We'll come back for her if it's safe. We might have to leave in a hurry again."

The group gave a collective shudder of the thought of encountering the Langoliers again. It was inconceivable with the fabric of reality disappearing with an unearthly sound and those teeth!

They exited the plane, a little easier this time through the cockpit trapdoor, instead of the slide. Wandering into the deserted airport, one-by-one they realized everything seemed a little fresher, a little more realwith every passing moment. After they realized their destination, they dashed quickly towards the United boarding lobby.

"Up against the wall!" Albert shouted gleefully, and all seven of them braced for their synchronization back into the proper timeline. The brief rise of ecstasy welled up within Laurel. She looked to see the same expression on Nick's face, who took her hand with his healthy one. There were no words to describe her happiness. She could only squeeze his hand fiercely. With a jerk, they had made it into the present time, whole and safe. There were celebratory kisses between the pairs and whoops and chuckles from the rest.

Nick made his way to a _working_ pay phone to make a few discrete calls to an agency contact at in Los Angeles. He wasn't sure how to explain something like what had happened to his superiors, but at this point there would be no inquisition.

"I made arrangements for a private, no questions asked checkup for each of us," gesturing to his broken arm, "and to get Dinah off of the plane," he said happily. The euphoria was still with him.

Brian, Laurel, and the others gave a grateful nod towards the younger man. Dinah would be taken care of, and not abandoned in that metal coffin, not after she had saved their lives.

The requested doctor arrived within minutes, ushering them into a private room at the airport. Eerily it could have been the equivalent of the one where Albert had encountered Toomy, and Don Gaffney had met his end. Despite the nosebleeds, no one had any lingering damage from the brief loss of air pressure. He set Nick's arm efficiently, binding it with a fast acting portable plaster.

The others could only watch in wonder as the sealant acted, but the doctor could only shrug. "It's not for public use," he commented cryptically. The aviation captain made another mental note to find out what adventures Nick had been on to warrant such care.

The doctor left just as quickly and quietly as he came.

"We…we don't have to split up so soon," Bethany nervously rambled as the group wandered towards the exit. Before, with her abuse, it felt as if she had no connections to this world. After their ordeal, she had not only found happiness with Albert, but the survivors had formed a bond - a bond so close it seemed only death could sever the group. Who could ever believe what they had been through?

"Not just yet," Laurel soothed the younger girl, giving her a comforting hug. "There's still Dinah."

Precious Dinah had been taken to the city morgue until funeral arrangements could be made.

"Was her aunt the only family she had?" Albert questioned.

"Well, we're her family now," Bethany said emphatically after no one could give an answer.

Nick nodded in approval. There truly was a brotherhood with survivors.

"Let's meet up in a few days for dinner. We'll plan what to do for Dinah, and we'll send her off the best way we can."

All agreed and exchanged their personal contact information before they departed down the escalators out of the terminal. Nick was not the only one who had been given a second lease on life. It didn't matter who they were before, with their sins and regrets. They were all new people now.

After checking into the best hotel money could buy, Nick insisted on giving Laurel her long awaited adventure.

"Really love, it's only my arm's that's broken, nothing else!"

"And if something's gets broken later?" she said with a cheeky grin.

"I'd consider it well worth it."

Hours later, as he kissed her sleeping figure, Nick thought it would be better if he broke the news to his father that he was quitting his job, with Laurel holding a bouquet of daises by his side.

* * *

_I wrote this because the ending made me quite mad. They all forgot about Nick and left Dinah's body on the plane. There were even hints of a romance between Laurel and Brian._

_Many phrases were taken straight from the original text. Langoliers is a product of Stephen King, not mine. The phrase "further up and further in" came from C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia because King's description of the rift sounded quite Narnian._

_Thanks for reading,_

_Grignard_


End file.
